


Come Back Everytime

by drarryangels



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Draco has an eating disorder, Drarry, Eating Disorders, Goodbye Kisses, Kisses, M/M, Multiple chapters, One Shot, PTSD, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tumblr, Tumblr Prompts, kiss, multiple chapters of one shots??, past trauma, prompts, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-07-25 09:10:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16194482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drarryangels/pseuds/drarryangels
Summary: Harry's Auror work, while painful, had always brought him back to Draco. And for Draco, he always knew it was possible that Harry wouldn't come back from a mission, but it had never been reality. Until it was.Started off as a Tumblr prompt to be a one-shot, but it's turned into multiple chapters of fluff, angst, and loads and loads of love.





	1. Not For Long

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr Prompt:  
> Lingering and hard for longer times apart. Ones that curve A’s body against B’s and cause hands to splay against backs. Or short pecks, maybe not even completely on the mouth for short trips to the grocery store.

“It’s not for long.”

“No, not long,” he said with a slight smile. 

“Okay. See, it won’t be long. You’ll be back soon, and there’s no reason to worry. You’ll be back,” Draco whispered hoarsely. 

“I know. I won’t. I’ll be back soon,” Harry said, burying his nose deeper into the soft skin of Draco’s neck. 

Draco slowly slid his hands up Harry’s back, trailing his fingers in careful circles and pressing the tips of his fingers into Harry’s shoulder blades. 

Every part of their bodies pressed up to each other. Thighs pressed up against each other gently, their stomachs rising and falling with speech, their chests resting against the other with every breath. Harry’s face was pressed into Draco’s neck, and Draco’s head rested over Harry’s shoulder. Harry’s left hand was draped through a belt loop, and the right was in Draco’s back pocket. 

“But if I don’t-” Harry said suddenly, lifting his head to face Draco.

“You will. You’re coming home,” Draco breathed, his eyes red from trying not to cry. 

Harry shook his head slightly, a lone tear sliding down his face. 

“You have to,” Draco’s voice broke.

Harry slumped his forehead against Draco’s, his breath washing over Draco’s cheeks. The one tear rolled slowly down Harry’s neck. Draco watched it unblinkingly, unable to look up at Harry’s face. Draco knew Harry was looking at him, the green of his eyes standing out even more than usual from the contrast of red puffiness. 

Draco deliberately brought his fingers up to brush the tear away from Harry’s neck. Harry shivered slightly underneath his fingertips. 

“The Aurors will be calling me to the meeting point any minute now,” Harry said faintly. 

Draco looked up, and just as he had thought, Harry’s eyes were searching his face as if to try and memorize it before he left. 

He inhaled sharply, about to pull away maybe, or try to reassure himself before Harry left, but he was cut off with a hard, fast kiss pressed up against his lips. Harry backed away quickly, but the spark had been lit. Draco stepped forward and pulled Harry to him for a blistering kiss. He moved slowly at first, winding his fingers up into the wild curls of Harry’s hair, wrapping them down his sides, running them up and down his neck and the sides of his face. Harry responded immediately, gasping into Draco’s mouth and deepening the kiss into something sad, lonely, lost, searching. Warmth burned up everywhere Harry’s hands touched, lighting his skin on fire up his arms, the backs of his thighs, the small of his back, the downy hair at the nape of his neck. His heart pounded against his rib cage, sending tremors of fear and want running through his nerves. 

The tears came down. There was nothing holding them back anymore. Fat tears of shame and desperation mingled with the one’s on Harry’s face. This could be the last time he ever touched Harry. The last time he had him all to himself.

Draco pressed himself even further into Harry, leaning almost all his weight up against Harry. Draco opened his mouth carefully again, and again, letting Harry swallow his air and whimpers. Harry’s mouth was warm and wet with tears and the taste of his favorite peppermint tea. Draco leaned back to try and catch his breath and Harry surged forward without pause, nearly toppling over Draco with his lips crushing against the corner of Draco’s lips, moving too fast for accuracy. Draco stumbled back with Harry’s weight, and they stumbled across the warm living room to the squishy couch. Draco landed on his bum and sunk against the back of the couch as Harry determinedly crawled up him and onto his lap. His knees wrapped around Draco’s hips to straddle him and he fell forwards onto Draco, pressing their lips together again, and again, and again. 

Draco gasped for air, swallowing Harry’s exhales, his chest heaving with the lack of air. Harry shifted his weight back to breathe for a moment and Draco immediately felt too cold, too empty. He leaned up to pull Harry down, kissing him more and more gently.

“Draco,” Harry panted. “Draco.”

In between every kiss, and in the middle of them too, Harry sighed, “Draco, Draco, Draco.”

Draco danced his hands up and down Harry’s rib cage, fitting his fingerprints in the dents of bones. Their open mouths spun and whispered, and Draco cried. 

This might be the very last time. 

Draco’s hands trembled and Harry pulled back. And Harry, he was so beautiful. Looking down at him like that. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes red and bloodshot. His glasses were sitting a little crookedly and his dark curls were standing up on rumpled end. He looked broken, awake, but so lost. He searched Draco’s face, trying to commit every single thing about it to memory. Maybe he believed that he could hold on to this image if he died. 

“Don’t look at me like you’re already dead,” Draco cried, all of his self restraint gone. His body shook under him with tremors and gasps for air. 

“I might as well be. You know this is a suicide mission. The tragic end of Harry Potter,” Harry snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Tell them I got deathly ill, and you have to stay with me,” Draco looked down at Harry’s left knee. Shame coursed through him. He shouldn’t be asking Harry to stay home, that was just pure selfishness. This was his job.

“You know I can’t, Dray,” Harry murmured. Draco nodded slightly. “Do you know how beautiful you are?” Harry said after a moment in something that sounded a little bit like awe. 

Draco’s head snapped up in surprise. 

“Just look at you,” Harry said softly. “Your face all red from tears, and you’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Draco shook his head a little. 

“You, you. You-- I can’t even describe….” Harry caught Draco’s face in between his hands, and leaned closer until their noses were just touching. “I love you so, so much.”

Harry continued closer until their lips just barely met, tentative and afraid. A blaring sound erupted from the fireplace, and Harry sat straight up abruptly, his head turning to stare at the fireplace. 

In one fluid movement, Harry snapped back around, kissed Draco hard, and before Draco could even blink, he was off the couch, picking up his cloak and standing in the fireplace. He stared at Draco and as the flames burned up around him, he closed his eyes. 

He was gone. Gone, gone, gone. 

“I love you,” Draco whispered into the now cold living room. No one answered.


	2. Simulated Environment Bubbles Are Never A Good Sign

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, no beta and limited time. Hope you enjoy!

[Revised]

His smile shattered like sunlight across his face.

“Do you think… do you think that maybe someday things will be better?” Draco asked quietly. He could barely hear his own voice.

“Things already are,” Harry’s voices sounded as if traveling through water.. He smiled again, and Draco exhaled happily.

Harry was here, and safe. And happy. And beautiful, just like always.

“Draco?” Harry asked softly, running his fingers through the silver-blonde strands of Draco’s hair. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Draco looked down into his lap. Clouds shifted underneath him. Where was he? Home. He had to be home. Where else could he be?

“Draco?” Harry asked again, concern striping through his tone.

“Draco!”

Draco sat up with a gasp. He looked around desperately, searching for a familiar face.

There was none.

No one to stutter awake when hearing cries in the darkness and patters in the kitchen. No one to press soft kisses down Draco’s spine when he was drifting through the haze of not quite being asleep, but not still awake yet either. No one to remind Draco why he needed to eat when he wanted to do anything but. No one to look at Draco like he put the sun in the sky, and to let slip that slight smile. Like he didn’t quite know he was smiling at all when he woke up in the morning and rolled over to see poofs of Draco’s hair sticking on one side of his head.

No Harry. 

Draco spent the rest of the night sitting up at the kitchen counter, watching and waiting. Staring at the tea kettle with no purpose in mind.

Morning came and Draco sat in silence until his alarm went off. He showered, dressed, and Apparated to St. Mungo’s.

“Good morning, Healer Malfoy,” the receptionist waved.

“Mornin’” Draco answered with a nod.

“Healer Malfoy!” Healer Oliver called, beckoning him over.

Draco sighed and leaned into the doorway of his office to set down his briefcase before walking over to the doorway Oliver was standing in.

“Healer Oliver,” he said by way of greeting.

“Healer Malfoy, thank Merlin you’re here.”

And the day carried on as per usual. 

Several patients, hours, and a couple of skipped meals later, distant shouting and running footsteps reached Draco’s ears, and he sighed. Draco held close his stacks of notes on the in progress developments of Mind Healing close to his chest. The hurried shouts came closer and closer, until the familiar lime-green of Healer’s robes were seen whirling around the corner, several bodies floating behind them in simulated environment bubbles.

Draco stepped swiftly to the side, and his eyes followed the pack of medi-wizards hurrying by.

His eyes caught on one of the bodies floating at waist height.

Dark skin.

Wildly curling hair.

No.

Please, no. Merlin, no.

No, no, no.

_Harry._


	3. He Hoped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After years of just barely evading death and injury, Auror mission after Auror mission, it's all caught up to Harry. And Draco Malfoy absolutely cannot be left behind by the only person he's ever been in love with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there's any typos or grammar problems, I sort of wrote this on the fly because I felt so bad I haven't added anything to this in awhile. I'm super happy to be back to this story, even if it's only made up of little one-shots, and I hope you enjoy it!

Draco stood, absolutely paralyzed, in the middle of the hallway. Didn't breathe, didn't shift an inch. 

A Healer in training strolled by Draco, muttering to her clipboard about the assignments she still had left to do. At a glance upwards, the young woman spotted Draco and halted her steps in the deserted hallway. The halls were always left barren after emergency shifts ran through. It was one of the things that annoyed the young woman the most. She wanted to live a rich life, not an empty one. 

"Pardon?" The woman coughed, carefully walking over to Draco. "Sir?"

Weight. The weight of thousands of worlds and lives crushed in around Draco, constricting his breathing and pressuring in on his vision. There was no way Harry could actually be hurt. I mean, the two of them had known that there was a chance he could get injured, or even killed. But it was a chance. Not a reality. It was something they both knew in their heads could happen, but felt in their hearts that it wouldn't. It was them. Draco and Harry. Harry and Draco. They had survived the war against all odds. They had become friends against all odds. They fell in love against all odds. The thought of death tearing all that away had crossed Draco's mind of course. Harry was an Auror, after all. But it had never really registered that death is reality, and comes across everyone, no matter how young or old, no matter how much they deserved life or didn't. 

"Are you alright?" The woman's voice swam up to Draco again. 

"My.... Harry...." Draco whispered. The white tiled floors swooped under him, but he couldn't take his eyes away. Blinking also seemed out of the question. 

"Harry?" The woman just seemed confused now, but at least she was trying. "Sir, do you need help? I can help you."

"My boyfriend," Draco breathed. "Harry."

A couple things seemed to click for the Healer in training in less than a second because half a heartbeat later, she gasped. "Harry! Harry Potter! Your boyfriend, ah I see now, it all makes sense. You're Draco Malfoy, I should've known. That Auror mission just got back, and....something happened. Something happened? You're freaking out, something must have happened. I need to get somebody. Wait here." And with that, she ran off.

Whatever Draco Malfoy was, he was not an idiot. He knew sitting down in that deserted hallway, and leaning up against the cool wall to rest was a good idea. He knew that he would be able to get the proper care, and that he was in safe hands with professionals. He knew logically that there was nothing at this point that he could do to help Harry, that emergency medi-wizards were well-trained, and would take brilliant care of Harry and make sure he was safe, without Draco's help. 

So, of course, Draco braced his hand against the wall to regain his balance. His head slowly cleared of the stifling clouds of panic, and withing a moment, Draco was setting back off the hallway with a clear head in the direction that Harry had been taken. 

No one stopped Draco as he briskly walked through the hallways towards the emergency care unit of St. Mungos. No one had any reason to stop him, for he worked there, and no one would dare to stop the Head Healer of the Children's Ward to ask him where he was going. They had other things to worry about. Other patients to take care of. And Draco didn't work by appointment, he worked when he could, attended the most severe injuries first, and got to the basic illnesses after the children in danger of death were taken care of. He had a loyal team, and the Children's Ward staff had never not done the best they could in every situation. And they wouldn't be any different today, Draco could at least trust in that. 

"Healer Malfoy!" A voice called, accompanied with pounding footsteps. 

Draco whirled, trying to conjure up random explanations of his panicked state as he turned. 

"Oh," the Healer stopped dead upon seeing Draco's face completely drained of blood and his eyes just barely too wide to be considered normal. "You must have already heard. I was told to call you away from the Children's Ward. The Auror team came in, and the Children's staff have got everything covered. They want you in the Emergency Care section."

Draco nodded mutely, and without another word, turned back on his heel and continued walking dizzily down the hallway. 

"Hey! Healer Malfoy!" The voice called out again, but Draco didn't stop. "Do you need some help? You're looking a little unsteady. Healer Malfoy?"

Draco still did not stop, and within moments, the healer was out of sight and Draco was around the corner, only a hallway away from Emergency Care. His footsteps sounded faintly against the regular quiet and hush of St. Mungos working as it always did. It shouldn't seem so normal. Harry. Harry was hurt. Badly hurt. Things should not seem so normal when everything was ending. 

Draco pushed open the door to the continuing whiteness of St. Mungos as he strode into Emergency Care. There was an elderly witch behind the counter whose hair was dyed a shimmering white and piled up on her head, paired with shining beads strung around her. Her lilac robes swished around her arms as she waved at Draco. 

"Sir! Please wait out here with me while-"

Draco's vision wobbled as he tilted past the desk, grabbing the edge of it as he attempted to stay balanced. Voices called out at him. Healer Malfoy. Draco. Sir. Asking him to stop. Voices sang to other healers. Step away. Make sure you watch his hand. Grab the monitor. Voices. Voices. Voices. Swooping in and out, soaring around Draco. One thought pounded over and over into his head, keeping him standing and moving.  _Harry._

"Healer Malfoy?" A familiar voice buzzed and tapped him on the shoulder. 

Draco turned abruptly, trying to shake off the hand that firmly held him back. Warm sea green eyes and healthy cheeks stared back at Draco. Neville. 

"Neville," Draco said simply, trying to keep his vision from completely blacking out.

"Draco-" Neville opened his mouth.

"Neville," Draco cut him off, "I can't let them shut me out of here. They're going to close the door with me outside, and Harry's not going to leave the room, and I'm never going to see him again. It's happened before. Hasn't it? You work here, with the plants, of course, but you know the stories. I mean, I've had to tell parent after parent that this curse, or that illness is the end, that their child isn't leaving the doors of St. Mungos. I can't... with Harry.... and maybe if I'm in there, Harry will be able to... I don't know. I can't leave him alone. He can't be by himself, and-"

"Draco," Neville set his hands firmly on Draco's slender shoulders. "Breathe."

Draco shook his head wildly, and set his gaze at his feet to try and ground himself. Heat burned up his cheeks, sending flushes of warmth waving over his body. 

"Draco, you have to breathe," Neville said, bending to try and catch Draco's eyes. "You can't help Harry if you're passed out."

Draco stilled and snapped his face to look up at Neville. It had taken so long to build this friendly relationship between the two of them. Draco didn't know how he had gotten lucky enough to befriend Neville Longbottom, still to this day. He was lucky Neville was so forgiving and willing to give Draco a second chance. Draco inhaled deeply, letting the sterility of the air fill up his stomach, and then exhaled. 

"You're right," Draco's voice came out faintly. 

"We need to wait out there," Neville said. "In the waiting room."

Draco opened his mouth to object, but Neville spoke before he could even inhale, "I know you hate it. But the emergency medi-wizards are going to do their best. They always do. And we can't be in their way while they're trying to save Harry's life. You know that, right? And we're going to wait. And hope. All we can do is hope. But hope saved us before. It can save Harry again. Yeah? We can hope."

Hope. There was nothing to do but hope. Draco nodded and breathed in and out slowly. And as Neville walked him out to the waiting room to sit in a cold plastic chair, Draco sighed. And he hoped. 


	4. All Might Be Normal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, per usual. If you have an extra second, I'd really appreciate it if you left some feedback in the comments, so I can improve my writing, plots, and characters. Thanks for reading. A new chapter should HOPEFULLY be up by next week if I have time. I'm studying for midterms this week, and then all the essays, projects, and finals are next week, so I'll do my best to write. If the next chapter isn't up next week, it will be up the week after. Thank you again!

It had been two weeks since Neville had sat Draco down in the waiting room of St. Mungos with a promise of hope. And Draco had hoped, and hoped, and hoped. And yet, Harry was still laying perfectly still on one of the white beds of St. Mungos. Draco had moved only barely more than Harry had. He got up to go the bathroom, and then went back to his seat in the waiting room. Neville brought him breakfast and lunch, as well as a cup of tea in the middle of the afternoon. Ginny brought him dinner when she could. And although Neville and Ginny tried to get Draco to eat, he would only swallow a couple nibbles, thank them, and then push the rest of the food away. And the weight loss had been devastating. Draco was thinner than he had ever been, and the bags under his eyes paired with red rimmed lashes rivaled only those from his sixth year.

But despite the constant waiting and growing disgust with himself, Draco continued to sit in the waiting room. He hadn't been allowed to see Harry. The Healers had said that Harry's stability was too fragile, and although Draco had tried to convince them that he was a Healer himself, he had still been barred from the room with several explanations of Healers and emotional connections with their patients. And so Draco had stayed in the waiting room, unwilling to risk Harry's life just to get a glimpse of his face.

Exhaustion beat Draco down violently, but he refused to sleep. Occasionally he would doze off, and then snap awake, punching himself in the stomach for leaving Harry like that. He knew logically that sleeping wouldn't actually take him away from Harry, but he couldn't help but believe it.

One time Ginny walked into the room just as Draco had begun to hit himself, and after a split second of shock, she was sprinting to his side, pulling his arms away and holding his hands in hers.

"Draco, Draco, stop."

"I can't," Draco whimpered, trembling with the effort of trying to pull his hands back to his body, and of trying not to burst into tears.

"You can't hurt yourself like that," Ginny whispered, kneeling down in front of him.

"I can't stop," Draco had said.

And with that, he closed his eyes, and the tears finally fell. Draco's head dropped forward and his shoulders shook with the force of his hurt. Why had he let Harry go? He had thought to himself as Harry was leaving that it was so selfish to pull him away from his work. But now, sitting in St. Mungos as he was, Draco couldn't stop thinking over and over, I could have saved him if I only had asked for him to stay.

But he hadn't. He had let Harry go to save the world again, and Harry couldn't save himself.

Two and a half weeks passed before a Healer came slowly out of Harry's room.

"Healer Malfoy?" he asked softly. Draco's head snapped up, and he looked desperately at the Healer. Dread crept up through his veins and pooled into the darkness of his stomach. Any news. Please be good news. Please let him be alive. Please let him be awake.

"You can see him. He's not awake, and not looking well but-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Draco was flying past the Healer, and then across the hall to Harry's door. And he was shoving Harry's door open, and then- oh. There he was.

Oh my god.

It was funny, Draco thought, how he had never heard the phrase oh my god until he met Harry. And after dating for over two years, Draco had picked the phrase up, and he had never had a moment more relevant than this one to use it.

Draco stepped slowly closer and closer to the bed until he was standing right over Harry. Not looking well was an understatement. Harry’s dark skin had lightened in the weeks out of the sun, and his skin was dry and thin from the lack of moisture in the hospital air. His eyes were closed, and his eyelids sallow, but his eyelashes were still as dark and long as ever, brushing over his cheeks like feathers. The hollows of his cheeks were dark, and so his cheekbones stuck out prominently. Not quite as prominently as his collarbones, though. Draco knew that Harry had always been overly thin and underfed and as a child, and that after the war finally ended, over time, he had put some weight and muscle on. But in the past few weeks, all that effort had vanished. Harry was now nothing but bones and shadows.

And Draco hated himself for it. It was all his fault. He was supposed to protect Harry, to take care of him. He shouldn’t have let him go when they had discussed multiple times that this mission wasn’t designed to be a retrievable one. Draco’s fault. All his fault. He should have gotten a say. But there was no longer anything that could be done.

Draco blankly summoned a chair over from the corner of the room with the last of his energy, and sank into it. He reached a hand out to Harry and laid it on his chest to feel his heart, to match his breathing to his. After a moment, Draco leaned carefully forward and gently laid his head down on Harry’s shoulder, turning his face in towards Harry’s neck. He wrapped his arms loosely across Harry’s body and closed his eyes. If he tried to think of something else, if he didn’t think about where he was, and about the sterile scent filling his nostrils, he could almost pretend that nothing was wrong. He could pretend that it was just another night splayed out across the couch after a night of reading in front of the fire, bundled blankets, tea, and fingers absentmindedly trailing down forearms and through hair. He could almost pretend that he had fallen asleep as always on top of Harry after work. If he pretended for just a moment, all might be normal.


	5. All His

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! No spoilers! :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added some song lyrics in here, because the song was going through my head, and the lyrics fit. The song is Blue by Troye Sivan.

" _I want you, color me blue. Anything it takes to make you stay,"_ Draco sang softly to the quiet silence of the room. 

Draco's hand rested carefully over Harry's heart, absorbing ever stutter it made. The room had been quiet for over a week, and although Draco wished desperately that Harry's laugh would fill it, he was just glad that he got to be in the room with Harry. And despite the underlying anxiety for Harry to wake up, Draco was peaceful. He was by Harry's side, and at last, Harry was stable. They didn't know if he was going to wake up, but at least he wasn't going to spontaneously die. And in Draco's mind, that left enough space for desperate, longing hope to take root and grow. 

" _Only seeing myself, when I'm looking up at you,"_ Draco hummed, closing his eyes, and tilting his head down to rest on Harry's shoulder.

A grunt reverberated through Harry's chest and to Draco's ear, and Draco sat up abruptly. He looked wildly at the bubble of monitors drifting around Harry's bedside. His heart rate was still going strong, but his breathing was off kilter and irregular. Draco's chair skidded across the floor as he stood up briskly, watching the monitors carefully and preparing himself to run for a Healer. 

There was no need. 

A stilted cough crumbled from Harry's lips, and Draco's body froze. He was either dying, or he was waking up. Please, please wake up. Harry's eyelashes fluttered. Everything was silent. Not a single thing in the room breathed. 

And Harry's eyes opened. 

Draco's mind went completely flat. 

Green. His eyes were so green. Draco had forgotten how purely green they were. Forgotten how no other colors tainted them. Forgotten how sleepy Harry looked when he was looking around without his glasses on. Forgotten, forgotten. How had he forgotten so much in just a month?

"Harry?" Draco whispered, his voice echoing around the room. Everything was shifting and changing in Draco's head, and yet the room remained completely still.

Harry's head swung wildly in search of the voice. And then his eyes met Draco's, and the world was exploding. 

"Draco," Harry said simply. 

And then Draco was running to him, and Harry didn't even have time to inhale before slim arms were being thrown around him, and squeezing him tighter than he thought was possible. Draco was laughing, and saying Harry's name over and over without end, and all Harry was doing was breathing him in. 

"Draco," Harry coughed, loosening his grip around Draco. 

"Oh, sorry," Draco stepped back suddenly, his eyes puffy and a smile splitting across his cheeks. 

"What happened? Where am I?" Harry demanded. 

"I don't know what happened," Draco said, the smile fading off his face as he sat down. Why wasn't Harry as happy to see him as he was to see Harry? "No one really knows what happened. Two of the members of your party were killed. You were in a coma, and so was Peterson. He hasn't woken up yet."

"So Roberts and James were killed?"

"I'm sorry, Harry," Draco said as he looked down at his folded hands in his lap. 

"Oh, god." Harry tilted his head back and covered his face with his hand. "I was supposed to die. Not them. That's why the Ministry sent us on this ridiculous mission. I wouldn't be their poster boy anymore, and they wanted one more great story. And I didn't die. But they did. This is my fault."

Draco's eyes snapped up to look at Harry. He was so thin, and distraught. Even after just waking up, Harry could only think about other Aurors and the Ministry instead of himself. And instead of Draco. Harry's hand dropped back down to his lap as he looked over at Draco with a swollen face. 

"It's not your fault," Draco said quietly, staring at Harry. "None of this is your fault. They would have done that mission with or without you. You know that. Don't blame yourself for things that are out of your control." There was a pause of silence as they stared at each other. "Goddammit, Harry. You're alive! Don't you realize what it's been like sitting here and waiting for you to wake up?" Draco pushed himself out of the chair and whipped around to face away from Harry. "You're not the one who has to sit and wait as the person you love leaves you again and again for something they might not come back from. You're not the one who finds themselves sitting in hospital wings thinking that that person is dying and you're never going to see their smile again. You are NOT the one who is constantly the second choice because you won't stop paying attention to the world for once, and just pay attention to the person who is right in front of you! The world loves the poster boy, Harry. I love  _you_."

Draco's chest heaved for breath and he lifted his arms to press his palms to his eyes. He dropped his head to stare at the floor and tried not to let any tears slip out. 

"Draco?" Harry's voice was oddly quiet. "Draco come here."

Draco turned slowly and stood desolately by the side of Harry's bed. He refused to sit down, and he could tell by the look in Harry's eyes that he had noticed. 

"I love you, you know that right?"

"That's not going to fix everything anymore," Draco said, looking up at the ceiling. 

"I know. That's why I'm quitting the Aurors," Harry said. Draco looked down sharply to see a soft smile gracing Harry's face. 

"You're what?" Draco asked.

"I'm quitting the Aurors," Harry repeated, reaching out to squeeze Draco's fingers. "I've done enough for this world. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Waking up to you, going to sleep with you, making dinner with you, going to movies with you. I want it all with you. And I'm going to miss all that if I'm not by your side. In any case, the death wish is gone. I can help out in little ways now. You know, helping old ladies cross the street, donating to charities, helping Hermione with Spew or whatever it- mph--" Draco's lips crashed down onto Harry's with a burst of laughter. 

Draco leaned down until he was half laying on Harry, and laughed, and laughed as he kissed all over Harry's face. He was so beautiful, and he was alive. And he was going to be coming home. And he would be staying with Draco. Forever, Harry had said. 

He was all his. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I promised this would be here a lot sooner than it was, but I'm finally done! I always love feedback, so feel free to put some constructive criticism in the comments if you want??


End file.
